


Never the Wrong Card

by manic_intent



Series: Close Up Magic [1]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blind Date, Facials, M/M, Prompt: Blind Date With Close Up Magic, That AU where Scott never becomes Ant Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 06:30:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: Scott peeked in. He was a little late thanks to traffic. On a quick sweep of the place, he thought for a moment that whoever he was meeting was also late. Or had stood Scott up. No such luck. In the corner of the restaurant, checking his phone, was a guy in a suit with a white tulip pinned to his lapel.Huh. Scott felt a little embarrassed for snipping a wildflower off the sidewalk now, but he’d genuinely forgotten about the flower thing until he was on his way. He sidled over to the table and sat down. “Paxton’s friend?” Scott asked, then added awkwardly, “er, hi.”





	Never the Wrong Card

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Jimmy Woo x Scott Lang, blind date with close up magic, waffles the next morning
> 
> AU where Scott never goes back to crime after leaving prison, and so never becomes Ant Man. Paxton’s name is also Jim (James) but even though it’d make more sense at this point in this ‘verse for everyone in the story to call him Jim, it’s going to be too confusing for me because of Jimmy, so I’ll refer to Jim Paxton as Paxton. 
> 
> I’m going to be vague about describing how Scott performs magic tricks, because personally I love close up card tricks. They’re my favourite kind of magic tricks, and I hate finding out how the sausage is made, so I don’t want to research them. That being said, I will be spoilering some tricks in this story, so if that isn’t your thing, skip a few paragraphs once Scott starts doing tricks.
> 
> Even for those who don’t mind magic trick spoilers, the trick that Scott uses in this story is one of my favourite ever, and it’s worth watching before reading this story if you’ve never seen the Mathieu Bich ep on Penn and Teller’s Fool Me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LyZp4sPqBAI

Maggie was always a little melancholy when Scott had to leave for the night. She hid it well, and in the beginning, Paxton had been a little jealous. It was obvious why Maggie had loved Scott—probably still loved him, in her own way. Scott was funny, handsome, charming, and gentle. Cassie still worshipped him. Hell, despite their rocky start, _Paxton_ liked Scott. 

“Want to talk?” Paxton asked, after Maggie put Cassie to bed.

“About what?” Maggie asked. She was curled on the couch with a new book and a glass of wine, and she scooted over as Paxton sat next to her.

“Scott.”

“What about Scott?” This had been a minefield question once, a warning for Paxton to back off. Now Maggie only looked concerned. “Did he tell you something during drinks?” 

Paxton met Scott for drinks once a week. At first, it was sort of a mutual ceasefire for Cassie’s sake, but then despite themselves, they’d hit it off. “Nope. I meant. He looked kinda down to me over dinner. Did he tell you something? Is he okay?” Asking Maggie if _she_ was okay was probably still a minefield question. 

“Oh no. His new business is starting to break even, he was happy about that. Just. I talked to Luis this week, remember? When we had that plumbing issue and Luis said he’d just send over his cousin rather than us having to wrangle professional help?” 

Paxton nodded. Luis had an army of cousins of varying talents, many of whom tended to look cagey whenever Paxton was around. “What did Luis say?” 

“He said he felt that Scott was lonely. That he’d tried setting Scott up with people but it hadn’t gone well.”

“Uh huh.” Being by now familiar with Luis and his plans, Paxton was completely unsurprised by this outcome. 

“So I was thinking… I mean. You’ve already done so much for Scott when you didn’t need to. Helped his business get started and all that. And you know a lot of people. So. Maybe. You could probably do a better job than Luis?” 

“Wow,” Paxton said, blinking. “You did not just make this a competition. With _Luis_.”

Maggie grinned slyly back, not even bothering to hide it. And the fact that she would go to bat for any of her friends—even Scott, who’d caused her so much pain, who’d only just started to pay child support again—it was one of the reasons why Paxton loved her. “I don’t know. Luis just has this way of getting things done. Even if it’s often unconventional.” 

“Firstly, I can’t believe I’m being compared to Luis on anything. _Luis_. The last time we invited him over for dinner I caught him teaching Cassie how to lockpick a door with a hairpin.”

“Could be an important life skill,” Maggie said, though she pulled a face. 

“Secondly, all my friends are cops.” 

“So?” 

Paxton grimaced. “Don’t you think Scott would have a problem with that?” 

“Why? You’re a cop. You guys get along great. You go for drinks once a week. You go over to his house to watch the NBA. The two of you even have your own Whatsapp chat and everything. Look,” Maggie said, placing a hand on Paxton’s arm, “it’s just a thought.” 

“Luis,” Paxton muttered, because he’d always been competitive. “Fine. I’ll. Think of something. Uh. Does Scott have a type? I mean. Other than you.” 

Maggie giggled. “I don’t think so? I think I was his first girlfriend. He said before me he’d only gone out with guys. Scott used to joke that I was the outlier.” 

“Okay.” That made things easier. 

Paxton did have women colleagues, but SFPD skewed male like most PDs, and it so happened that all his women colleagues were either married or in the vague state of limbo that they tended to call ‘Complicated’. Hell, everyone in his precinct would probably say ‘no’. Cops didn’t tend to like prepackaged complications for their off hours, and dating the ex-husband of a colleague’s wife was so far into complicated it could probably serve as an example in a dictionary. 

“Maybe not somebody you’re working with on a daily basis,” Maggie said, guessing his thoughts. 

“So just a friend I won’t mind losing?” 

“I didn’t mean that!” Maggie hit Paxton with a cushion. 

He laughed as he fended her off. “Okay, okay. I don’t know if Scott will say yes? But I’ll see what I can do.”

Maggie grinned, happy now that she’d gotten her way. “Let _me_ worry about Scott.”

#

Scott had tried his best to beg off the blind date. The ones set up by Luis tended to go spectacularly awry. While Maggie and Paxton didn’t attract chaos the way Luis and his plans did, Scott had been mildly traumatised by his last blind date, which had involved prawns, seagulls, and an almost-trip to the ER. Maggie would always, always have to have her way, though. It was easier to give in. Which meant going on a date with a total stranger who, given they were Paxton’s friend, was probably a cop.

Great.

Scott had nothing against cops like Paxton, who were sober, fair, and genuinely decent people who took the ‘serve and protect’ part of their jobs seriously and without reservation. There were always stories though. Even beyond the pricks who’d shake down people like Dave for Driving while Black. Scott had heard of cops who’d abuse the system to make people’s lives a living hell. So yeah. Maybe Scott was paranoid. But maybe he wasn’t. 

The address Maggie had given Scott was a nice understated restaurant. It wasn’t quite on the hipster end of the spectrum, but given the relentless gentrification of San Francisco, it was getting there. It was brightly lit, with rows of dark tables lined by walls hung with framed photos of other countries. Smelled nice at least. Scott peeked in. He was a little late thanks to traffic. On a quick sweep of the place, he thought for a moment that whoever he was meeting was also late. Or had stood Scott up. No such luck. In the corner of the restaurant, checking his phone, was a guy in a suit with a white tulip pinned to his lapel. 

Huh. Scott felt a little embarrassed for snipping a wildflower off the sidewalk now, but he’d genuinely forgotten about the flower thing until he was on his way. He sidled over to the table and sat down. “Paxton’s friend?” Scott asked, then added awkwardly, “er, hi.”

The guy looked up sharply. On a first glance, Scott would’ve pegged his instincts about Paxton wrong, and placed his friend as some kind of accountant. The guy was Asian, Korean if Scott had to guess. His suit looked too well-made for a beat cop’s, his shirt ironed into sharp lines against his throat. He wore a neat grey tie with no pattern. Cute guy, with a soft mouth and thick dark hair. Around there the accountant resemblance ended. The guy gave Scott a quick once-over, flicked his eyes to the door, then back to Scott. He was sitting with his back to the wall, in the only part of the cafe where he could case all the exits. 

Yeah. The guy was a fucking cop. 

“Paxton’s friend,” the guy said. He had a pleasant voice, at least. American accent. “Jimmy.” He set his phone down and stretched a hand across the table. Firm handshake. Nice, if Scott could ignore what were obviously calluses from handling a gun. 

“Scott,” Scott said, and smiled ingratiatingly. “Um, sorry if Paxton kinda shoehorned you into this?”

“Why, is there something I should know?” Jimmy sounded amused.

Huh. Maggie had told Scott not to say anything about her, Cassie, or his conviction history to the blind date. ‘Just for fun’, she’d said. At the time, Scott hadn’t really thought much about it. Did ‘Jimmy’ not know who Scott was? “Uhm.” Scott coughed. “I mean. I don’t know if you had to be blackmailed or something.” 

Jimmy chuckled. This time the once-over was far less professional, lingering on Scott’s face. “Nah. I did owe Paxton a favour, but this is a nice surprise.” 

“Er, okay,” Scott said, because he was now way too flustered to deal with flirting. He swallowed down the urge to just tell Jimmy-the-Not-Accountant that he was a felon, and picked up the menu. He could do a date. Make Maggie and Paxton happy and then make them promise never to try and set him up again. They ordered. Jimmy got wine, Scott got a beer. 

“So did you owe Paxton a favour too?” Jimmy asked, once the drinks came. 

“Not really.” Scott took a sip. It relaxed him, even if the effect was a placebo. “He uh, he and Maggie just talked me into it.” 

“You’re friends with the family?” Jimmy relaxed nearly imperceptibly—Scott would’ve missed it if prison hadn’t conditioned him to watch people carefully for body language cues. 

“Er, well, yes.” Scott swallowed the rest of his words in time, before he blurted out everything he’d promised Maggie he wouldn’t say. “They’re nice people?” 

“I’m sure they are,” Jimmy said and grinned. “Relax. You look like you’re having dinner with a shark. I’m not that scary, am I?”

“Pretty sure you’re a cop,” Scott said before he could stop himself, then he tried his best to swallow his tongue as Jimmy blinked.

“How’d you guess?”

“I knew it. Uh. Paxton only has cop friends, not in a weird way, or in like a playing to stereotypes way, but well, the way you looked at me when I sat down, and where you’re sitting, and your hand.” Scott took in a deep breath. 

Jimmy actually glanced down at his hand. “My hand?” 

“Guessing you practice a lot with your service piece. Like Paxton. And you’re sitting with your back to the wall. Where you can watch both exits.” 

“Ah.” Jimmy smiled tentatively. “You’re very observant.” 

“Though your suit threw me for a bit. Sorry. Er. It’s too nice? For a beat cop’s? I don’t mean to say that Paxton’s and Gale’s, I mean, that’s his partner, nice guy too, maybe a bit intense, er, not to say that their clothes suck or anything, but there’s sort of a _look_ to them and. Maybe I should drink more beer.” Or less. Scott took another sip. He always tended to run his mouth when he was nervous. 

Jimmy’s stare was curious now rather than amused. Never a good sign from a cop. “Private investigator?”

“What?” 

“You.” 

Scott let out a startled laugh. “No? Er. No.”

“Paxton does tend to only have cop or cop-adjacent friends,” Jimmy said, by way of an explanation. “I met him on a case.” 

“Oh, uh. I’m a friend of Maggie’s, not. Yeah. Not Paxton’s friend, I mean, I _am_ now Paxton’s friend, but I’m more Maggie’s friend, uh. I do parties? Mostly kids’ parties. Magic tricks. Some D &D, that’s getting popular nowadays.”

“Magic tricks?” 

Scott could never resist showing off, especially now that he’d gotten good enough to follow the Expert Tier videos. He liked to travel with card decks too, to practice during commutes. Scott palmed a card out of the air and grinned as Jimmy’s face lit up. This was why Scott loved close up magic. Not just because kids adored it. It was an easy way to get people to like him. In the split second where he tricked someone’s mind into thinking that real magic was possible, Scott made the world a happier place for that person. Even if it was temporary. He liked that. 

“That’s impressive. Where’d you learn that from?” Jimmy asked. 

“You can learn anything off YouTube,” Scott confessed. 

“I think the card was up your sleeve,” Jimmy said, then he flushed a little in embarrassment. “Sorry. Bad habit.” 

“Oh no, I love a tough customer.” Kids didn’t generally have a brain to mouth filter, and they were always his toughest critics—and biggest fans. Some of Scott’s latest referrals had been from kids talking him up to their classmates. Scott fanned cards out from his pockets for his favourite warm up, a crowd favourite game of Is This Your Card. Jimmy guessed the secret behind this trick as well, though he sounded a little sheepish about it. When Scott merely grinned and took it as a challenge, Jimmy relaxed further, even leaning towards the table to watch Scott more closely. 

“You memorised the deck,” Jimmy said, after the next trick. “Those kings were already palmed under your hand,” he said, at the next. Damn, he was good. 

Scott worked through his most difficult tricks—Two Card Monte variants, Impossible Card Locations. Some of them set Jimmy to thinking—he had a cute way of rubbing the knuckles of the back of his hand against his lips as his eyes went distant—but he eventually guessed each one. In the end, Scott broke out the big guns. As he fanned out the deck of cards in a line over the table and they spelled out Jimmy’s card with their edges—Jack of Spades—Jimmy sat back with a soft breath, wide-eyed. 

Scott flinched as the tables around him burst into applause. He hadn’t even realized that he’d had an audience other than Jimmy. The young waitress holding their plates of food had been frozen behind Jimmy, open-mouthed with wonder. Jimmy nudged him under the table and Scott startled to his feet, bowing dramatically, the way he would to a party of kids. 

“Hey, er. Couldn’t help but overhear earlier that you do kids’ parties?” The lady at the table next to them asked. “Do you have a card? I might have something for you in a month if you’re not booked out. You’re awesome.” Her date nodded vigorously.

“Thanks.” Scott patted himself down and handed over a card.

“And me,” said the guy from the table behind her. “Sorry to butt in. Do you do company events?” 

“A card for me too, please,” the waitress said. “Damn. You should be doing a show in Vegas, dude. Yo, anyone else want cards from this _fully sick_ wizard over here, hands up!” 

Scott was out of cards by the time he sat back down at the table. The pasta was a little cold, but he didn’t mind. Jimmy was smiling at Scott with a look of frank interest that made Scott’s heart skip a little faster. “She’s right,” Jimmy said, as Scott started to eat. “You’re too good for kids’ parties.” 

“Nah. I like kids’ parties. I like knowing that I made their day, you know? It’s fun. I like working with kids. Even if they can be pretty harsh sometimes.” 

“I’d like to learn some of your tricks. The ones that kids prefer. I volunteer as a youth pastor,” Jimmy explained. 

“Sure. I’ll send you some links if you’d give me your email.” Scott had needed only a few days to master the basic tricks. 

Jimmy reached over the table, touching his fingertips lightly to the underside of Scott’s wrist. “You don’t do private lessons?” he asked, and chuckled when Scott flushed and nearly choked on his pasta. 

Oh, why not. It’d been a while anyway, and if even half the people who took his cards called him back, Scott was going to have a nicely busy set of months ahead. He might as well celebrate. “I don’t usually,” Scott said, holding Jimmy’s gaze, “but for you I’ll make an exception.”

#

Scott hadn’t really expected them to make it to the bedroom, given they’d spent the ride up in the lift with Scott pinned to the wall and kissed until he was moaning. He didn’t, however, expect Jimmy to just walk Scott through the apartment until Scott’s ass was pressed to the back of the couch and drop to his knees, still tugging his tie loose. Jimmy must’ve noticed something—he hesitated, thumbs tucked into Scott’s belt. “Too fast?” Jimmy asked.

“Nah. Just. It’s been a while,” Scott confessed. That was a bit of a lie. Maggie hadn’t really liked giving head. Besides, it’d been years since Maggie. And before that, the guys he’d dated before Maggie tended to expect Scott to suck them off, tended to call Scott a pretty boy, tended to want Scott on his hands and knees without much foreplay.

Jimmy shot him a lazy grin and ran his hands confidently up Scott’s thighs. “Lucky for me,” he said, and nuzzled a kiss over Scott’s crotch. “You’re seriously hot. You’d think Paxton could’ve mentioned that. The weird way he approached asking me for this favour, I thought… well, I wasn’t sure what I was meant to think.” 

“Weird?”

“Yeah. He was strangely cagey about the details.” Jimmy reached for Scott’s zipper and glanced up when Scott grabbed his hand.

“I’m an ex-con,” Scott blurted out, because he couldn’t keep it in anymore, promise to Maggie or not. “I’m not really Maggie’s friend, I’m uh, well I _am_ her friend now, but, I used to be her husband, and, Paxton’s kid is mine, and. I’m sorry,” he said, as Jimmy sat back on his heels. Way to ruin the mood. 

“Now I get it,” Jimmy said, thoughtful. “I could see that you guessed I was a cop. I thought it was weird that you looked so freaked out by it, given you’re clearly friends with Paxton and Gale.”

“It was white collar stuff,” Scott mumbled. “Really stupid.” 

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me the details if you don’t want to. You did your time. That’s the end of that as far as I’m concerned.” Jimmy eyed him for a moment, then he got to his feet and pulled Scott over to the couch. They sat flush, knees pressing. Jimmy pressed his hand to Scott’s thigh, but the mood still felt ruined. “My turn,” Jimmy said carefully. “Paxton told me not to bring it up, but since you’ve been honest, I think I should be as well. Yes, I’m a cop. More precisely, I’m an FBI agent.” 

“Holy shit.” That explained the nice suit. And the nice, if small apartment. Jimmy probably wasn’t just any FBI agent—he had to be a fairly senior one.

Jimmy lifted a shoulder into a self-deprecating shrug. “It’s not as glamorous as movies make it out to be.” He patted Scott’s thigh. “Also, I’ll understand. If you want to leave. No hard feelings.” 

“People do that? Find out you’re an FBI agent then walk out on you?” Scott asked, puzzled. 

“Happened a couple of times,” Jimmy said, and pulled a face. “Especially after the election. Not that I had anything to do with that mess. I imagine it’s probably worse for you. Ex-cons face a lot of often unwarranted prejudice when they try to reintegrate into society.”

“You can say that again.” Scott tried to relax, but he was a little too keyed up now. An _FBI agent_. He was going to kill Paxton after this.

Just as he was going to try and find a polite way to say that he was going to go, Jimmy straightened up. “Trick deck,” Jimmy said.

“What?”

“The thing you did with the cards that spelled out the words. Trick deck. You switched decks under the table. Right before you started that last trick.” Jimmy beamed. “Am I right?” 

Somehow, Scott’s nervousness ebbed. He started to laugh. “Have you been thinking about that all this while?”

“All through dinner. And the way here. Among other things. I can’t help it,” Jimmy said apologetically. “Puzzles get me deep down. I just start obsessing until I find the solution.” 

“The secret,” Scott said, grinning as he leaned over, “is I’m not telling you,” he whispered, right next to Jimmy’s lips. 

Jimmy made an indignant sound, though he didn’t pull back. “Come on. Not knowing is gonna eat me up. Promise I won’t tell anyone.” 

Scott nudged a kiss over Jimmy’s mouth. “Magicians never reveal their tricks.” 

Jimmy scowled, which was oddly adorable. Scott had never seen someone get so visibly frustrated over a magic trick. “Please.” 

“Make me,” Scott said, as smugly as he could, and patted Jimmy over his crotch. 

This got him pushed down on the couch, Jimmy scrambling over him, both of them kicking off shoes as they kissed, messy and urgent all over again. 

Scott twisted his fingers into Jimmy’s tie and rubbed against his hip. He was getting hard again, and he’d missed this, missed getting intimate with someone else. He ran his hands greedily over Jimmy’s back, under his jacket, and yeah, that was definitely muscle tone under Scott’s fingers. Scott wanted to see it, draw his nails over it. Jimmy smelled good, a warm masculine scent cut against a light spicy cologne. Scott licked after it against Jimmy’s throat, against the curve of his jaw. 

Jimmy was working his teeth against Scott’s ear, fumbling Scott’s shirt up and off. He bent to lick one nipple and chuckled as Scott gasped and twitched. “Interesting,” Jimmy purred, and did it again, with a hint of teeth. It wasn’t something people usually did to Scott—his partners before Maggie had mostly been rushed one night stands. Jimmy was unhurried, confident, like he’d drawn up some kinda plan of attack the moment he’d seen Scott and was just sticking to it now. 

By the time Jimmy finally started kissing down Scott’s chest, Scott was whimpering and writhing urgently under him, rubbing hopefully against Jimmy’s belly. Jimmy paused to toss his tie off the side of the couch and unbuttoned his shirt one-handed as he nuzzled down Scott’s belly, making an appreciative sound as he tongued twitching abs. “You’re so hot,” Jimmy said, a hungry husky sound that he pressed right over the hem of Scott’s pants. 

“Y-yeah? What’re you gonna do about that?” Scott scooted up against the armrest to get a better view and to give Jimmy a bit more space to work with. 

“Hmm.” Jimmy rumbled against Scott’s thighs, nuzzling his crotch, then tugging down the zipper. “Wanna taste you first. Suck you off until you’re close. Then spread your ass and eat you out.” He grinned wickedly up at Scott as Scott sucked in a tight and startled sound. “Ever had that done to you before? Have someone fuck you with their tongue?” 

“Holy shit,” Scott said faintly. His cock jumped restlessly against his jeans. Jimmy kissed the bulge in Scott’s boxers and eased him out, not bothering to try and undress Scott any further, lazily tonguing the tip. 

“Nice,” Jimmy said, briefly derailed, licking long, confident stripes over Scott’s cock. “Might want this inside me someday.” Scott whined, sucking in a thin breath as he imagined Jimmy under him, this self-controlled and put-together FBI agent, or naked and on top, riding Scott’s dick. “But I think I’d want to fuck you first. Ride this gorgeous ass of yours until you’d think of me each time you sit down for a week.” 

Scott tried to say something but only managed a wrecked noise. Jimmy had gotten his mouth over Scott’s cock, sucking him down with the same impossible unhurried concentration, holding Scott’s hips down with a strength Scott wouldn’t have guessed that he had. And. What the fuck. Jimmy could _deep throat_? Scott hadn’t even thought that was possible out of porn. He was vaguely aware that he’d made a sound that could only be described as a hoarse squeal as Jimmy’s nose nudged against his boxers. He felt Jimmy’s amusement shake through his shoulders as Jimmy pushed Scott’s thighs further apart. Scott was burning up. He let out a thin wail as Jimmy started to suck, compressing Scott’s cock in an impossibly wet, tight heat. 

“Fuck,” Scott moaned, his tongue thick in his own throat, squirming and twitching against Jimmy’s lips. “That’s, I don’t even, what the nggh—I don’t, I don’t even.” He let out a raw sob as Jimmy bobbed in his lap, easing up and down. Watching his saliva-slicked flesh push past Jimmy’s reddened mouth was too much. Too fast. Scott pulled lightly at Jimmy’s hair and flinched as Jimmy hummed. “You liked that? You… Jesus, I’m going to… Jimmy…!” Scott yelped out a warning that broke into a shout as he started to come. Jimmy choked and pulled back, startled. He _swallowed_ , his tongue pressed hard under the head of Scott’s cock. Jimmy drank Scott down and licked up the rest, then grinned at whatever he saw on Scott’s face as he tucked Scott away.

“Oops,” Jimmy said hoarsely, and wiped his mouth clean with the back of his palm. Shakily, Scott tried to reach for Jimmy’s pants, but Jimmy stopped him with a light touch on his wrist. “Can I…” He hesitated. “Can I come on you?” 

Scott started to laugh, a broken dazed sound. “Baby, that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had. You can do whatever you want to me right now and I wouldn’t even care.” And because Scott was competitive that way, he slid off the couch, settling against Jimmy’s knee. Smiled up at Jimmy and licked his mouth. “How about you do it on my face.” 

“Shit,” Jimmy breathed. He fumbled with his belt and zipper, his hands slipping on the buckle. Scott leaned in once Jimmy got his cock out, kissing the tip as Jimmy stroked himself roughly. Didn’t take long for Jimmy to make a mess. Scott wiped fingertips over the stripe on his cheeks and popped them into his mouth, smirking as he heard Jimmy gasp his name.

#

Scott woke up in an unfamiliar bed in a sleek room that he didn’t recognise. The bed was the only rumpled thing about the room—the rest of it was so perfectly in order that for a moment Scott muzzily wondered if he was in a hotel room somewhere. There was even a nice view from floor-to-ceiling glass windows to his left, looking out over San Francisco. Then he remembered, and sat up so quickly he made himself dizzy.

Jimmy must’ve heard something. “Spare toothbrush and towel in the sink,” Jimmy called from outside the bedroom. Scott got cleaned up hurriedly and slunk out, just in time to see Jimmy carefully levering waffles from a waffle machine onto a plate. “Made breakfast,” Jimmy said, without turning around.

“Good morning to you too,” Scott said, blinking. He sidled over to the kitchen. In the morning light, the apartment was beautiful. High ceiling, more glass windows. Framed art. A bookshelf that climbed the wall to the bedroom, thick with titles. 

“Coffee or tea?” Jimmy asked.

“Uhm, whichever’s easiest.” 

“Coffee then.” Jimmy poured them a cup each and sat plates and cutlery on the kitchen table, along with a heap of waffles and maple syrup. 

“Now I’m really impressed,” Scott admitted. The waffle was fluffy and not too sweet, and the maple syrup was a fragrant, molassy thing in a fancy white jar that sure as hell didn’t look like it came from Walmart. “Are FBI agents rolling in cash?” 

“What?” 

“This is a seriously nice place.”

“Oh, that. I get by,” Jimmy said, in a vague way that meant yes, he was probably senior enough to be rolling in cash. “And I appreciate nice things.” Jimmy’s eyes lingered on Scott’s face as he said it. 

“Don’t think I match the decor,” Scott said. Even the coffee was perfect.

“I don’t know about that. Think you looked great in my bed,” Jimmy said, grinning lazily, and yeah, this probably wasn’t gonna be a one-night thing. Scott’s cock twitched against his thigh. “You still owe me that private lesson.” 

“Good thing it’s the weekend,” Scott said, swirling a spoon through some syrup and popping it slowly into his mouth. Jimmy’s eyes dropped to his lips, then tracked slowly back up Scott’s face. 

They ruined breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> twitter: manic_intent  
> tumblr: manic-intent
> 
> Refs:  
> My uncle is a (retired) cop, but yeah lol. This article. (cw: domestic abuse, stalking) https://highline.huffingtonpost.com/articles/en/police-domestic-violence/


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